


Ace's Present

by Batsymomma11



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Gen, Hanging Out, One Shot, Pets, Silly, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 13:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15908838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsymomma11/pseuds/Batsymomma11
Summary: Bruce and Clark just want to have a night in to relax and enjoy some scotch. But then Ace leaves a lovely present on the carpet and Clark's weak stomach makes an appearance.





	Ace's Present

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot with Bruce and Clark just hanging out. There is dog vomit involved for those of you who have a weak stomach too. Beware;)   
> I do not own DC or its characters. I do own the story.   
> Thank you and enjoy!

            “You can do it, Bruce.”

            “Shut up Clark.”

            “Oh God.”

            “Stop. Talking.”

            “I—I think I’m gonna be—” Clark clapped a hand over his mouth, turning a turgid shade of green as he swayed on his feet.

            “I swear to God Clark, if you vomit when I’m in the middle of cleaning this up, I’m going to vomit. And then I’m going to smear your face in it.”

            “Bruce, don’t. Please.”

            Bruce was stooped over the puddle of dog puke, swiping with gobs of paper towels to clean up the mess, but it wasn’t helping much. Ace had drunk a gallon of water, trotted around the house like a puppy hyped up on treats, then promptly emptied his stomach in front of the pair when they’d been lounging in the study.

            Any chance of enjoying their well-earned glasses of scotch had been abruptly abandoned in favor of salvaging the carpet.  

            And to think, Bruce had thought this evening was going to be quiet and uneventful.

            So much for that idea.

            “Should we call Alfred?” Clark mused over one shoulder, keeping his distance as he delicately breathed through his mouth. “It looks like it might stain.”

            “No. Alfred only does his senior book club once a month and I don’t want to bother him. We’ll manage.”

            “You’re not getting all of it.”

            “Do you want to take over for me?” Bruce growled, feeling his stomach roll when he tried to pick up a particularly slimy glob. Clark made a gagging sound then heaved breathily.

            “Don’t you fucking dare.”  
            “I’m sorry,” Clark whispered, “I have a weak stomach.”

            “Then get out.”

            “I wanted to be supportive. I know your stomach isn’t much stronger when it comes to pet—stuff.”

            “You’re only making things worse.”

            “I know,” Clark choked, doing a little dance with his feet, “I’m sorry Bruce. I’m going to get some air.”

            “Let Ace out when you do.”

            “OK.”

            Bruce mopped up the rest of it, with only a few episodes of staunch throat closing. Or mostly anyways. He sprayed a gallon of Resolve on the carpeting and then stalked out of the study to change his clothes. He felt like he needed a shower but settled for washing his hands till they were raw. Clark wasn’t wrong about his strong disliking for animal fluids of any kind. Give him blood and bones any day. But dog puke?

            He’d rather stab a fork in his hand.

            Damian was lucky he hadn’t been called home just to pick up the mess himself.

            Changed into clean sweats and his slippers, because he may or not have been slightly terrorized by the idea of accidently stepping into another of Ace’s presents, Bruce found Clark sitting outside on the back stairs. His coloring had returned but he still looked wary when Bruce approached.

            “It’s done.”

            “Good. Thanks Bruce. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

            Bruce’s mouth lifted in a half-grin, “You did an excellent job of moral support.”

            “I’m Superman. You’d think I could handle something like that.”

            Bruce snorted, tried to cover it then started laughing so hard his ribs hurt. He could see Clark trying to clean up the carpet then puking then trying to clean that up too. It was a good thing Clark hadn’t even tried.

            “I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.”

            Bruce sighed, bumping shoulders with Clark, “Yeah, well, I’m happy. Things are good right now.”

            “Empty nest isn’t worrying you?”

            “Empty?” Bruce laughed again, but it was a little tired sounding, “It’ll never be empty. Those boys are here more often than not. Even though they all ‘moved out’. And then there’s you.”

            Clark’s brows lifted, “Me? What did I do?”

            “You’re here.”

            Clark grinned, “I’m always here. When is that new?”

            “It’s not.”

            The two remained pressed into each other’s sides, staring quietly up at the sprawl of night bitten sky and waited for Ace to come bounding back up to them. When he did, Bruce was the first to stand and they walked back into the manor chuckling when Clark caught a whiff of the Resolve and promptly gagged again.


End file.
